


Of Monsters and Men

by elfentruthed



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Trans Character, yoosung is trans btw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-08-24 03:24:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8355130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfentruthed/pseuds/elfentruthed
Summary: It's been a few weeks since Saeran has become an official member of the RFA. Everyone still seems cautious of his presence, but he's doing everything he can think of to make amends for his past mistakes. Finally, someone reaches out and opens an offer of friendship.--Obvious spoilers for pretty much the entire game, including the secret endings.





	1. I Of The Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter is titled after a song by Of Monsters and Men that has a bit of lyrics relating to the chapter. I love their work and their "hauntingly cheery" (or "cheerfully haunting"?) style fits post-ending Saeran so well, in my opinion.

_**I Of The Storm** _

_**\---** _

They were talking about him again.

Saeran had thought they would have learned by now. His presence in the chat rooms was always invisible, as Saeyoung hadn’t made much effort to reverse his past hacking into the messaging system. His coding was so airtight that Saeran couldn’t even go in and change his profile name. On the rare occasion that he spoke up in the chat room, he still came up as ‘Unknown.’ It made him cringe; that nickname had a very negative effect on the other members of the RFA. No doubt it affected the way they read his messages, even if they didn’t mean it consciously.

He was trying so hard to be Saeran again. It still seemed impossible.

The other members of the RFA chatted away as if they were completely oblivious to the possibility that he could be reading every single word.

“How is your brother doing, Saeyoung? Well, I hope?” the assistant had asked.

 _Jaehee, Jaehee is her name_ , Saeran mentally corrected himself. He usually only looked at the profile pictures in the chatroom, and when he was spying on the RFA he was more interested in everyone’s specific roles than their personal information. Now that he was a member himself, he tried his best to remember everyone’s names. It was the first step to making a connection, he figured.

“He’s doing very well,” his brother replied. “I swear I saw him crack a smile when I brought him back ice cream yesterday.”

Ah yes, that moment. He _had_ almost smiled. It was like Saeyoung was finally fulfilling a long-forgotten promise when he walked through the door with two waffle cones stacked so full of ice cream that it seemed as though it would topple over any second. Saeran had reached out and quickly retrieved the treat so he could start enjoying it before it became a huge melted mess.

As much as he had wanted to smile in that moment, it was still so hard.

“I’m sure ‘well’ is defined loosely.” That was “Pretty Boy,” as Saeran mentally referred to him. _Zen_. He didn’t take offense to his response; he talked about everyone as if they weren’t there. Especially the rich guy. “Do you mean to say he didn’t try to kill you within the past 48 hours?”

“Not funny, Zen.” Miyoung loved to joke around as much as his brother, but she knew when to be serious. Usually when she was standing up for him. “He’s been working really hard to clear his head. I think he deserves a little credit.”

Saeran’s heart lifted a little. Over the past few weeks, he and his brother’s girlfriend had gotten fairly close. Not in any way that would threaten her relationship with Saeyoung; Saeran had long realized he had no interest in women. But he was comfortable in describing Miyoung has his friend, and she was the only one with that title.

The chat room _dinged_ again, and Saeran looked down to see his brother had sent a picture. It was a selfie he had taken just a few days prior of the two of them standing closely together, Saeyoung’s arm wrapped around his twin’s shoulder. Saeyoung was making some ridiculous kiss-y face, and Saeran’s expression was one of just… existence. Not smiling but clearly not upset in any way. Neutral.

“You two really do look alike,” Jaehee said.

Saeran picked up his phone. “No, I’m clearly the better looking one,” he typed in. He tried to make his responses light-hearted and witty. He hoped it would help the others loosen up around him.

He moved his arm to set his phone back upon the table. He knew it would take a few seconds before anyone responded anyway. That’s how it always was. Everyone in the RFA, sometimes Miyoung included, seemed to forget that he could read everything they said and respond when he felt like it. That he was a real person and not just some mythical creature they could postulate about. It would probably help if his brother would recode the messenger so that his presence in the chat room would be-

Before the phone was able to even touch the table, the chat room _dinged_.

“lololololololol he’s right” This was Yoosung.

 _Ding_. “can’t believe your own twin showed you up lolololol”

Saeran was caught by surprise; no one responded to anything he said that quickly, let alone so positively. His attempts at witty remarks were always followed by an awkward silence in the chat room that lasted about ten seconds, followed by a dry “Hello, Saeran.”

But this? This was unusual. Someone was actually returning the jest.

Saeran actually felt his heart skip a beat.

Before he could think of anything to say back, another response illuminated the screen.

“Hey, we’re identical!” said Saeyoung. “It’s not possible for him to look better than me!”

“Maybe it’s that new sweater Miyoung got him,” Yoosung responded. “It’s cute on him.”

“What can I say, I have good taste lololol” Miyoung said.

Saeran set his phone face down in his lap and leaned back in his chair. The conversation had taken a bit of a strange turn. They were talking as if he wasn’t there again, but he didn’t dislike it, he decided. Talking about his sweater was certainly preferable to them talking about his health, at least.

He did like that sweater. It was warm and cozy, and when he was bored he liked to trace his fingers along the argyle pattern count the stitches that created the thin diamond outline. And now, to earn him a compliment?

He was going to have to go sweater shopping with Miyoung more often.

He picked up his phone again and began typing. No one had responded in a few seconds, and it may have been his only chance to say what he wanted to say before someone else came in and changed the subject. Or before he lost his nerve and deemed it an unnecessary sentiment.

“Thanks Yoosung.”

His message was returned with an animated version of a cheerful and smiling Yoosung, then an interjection from Jaehee.

“What a pleasant interaction,” she said. “That was very kind of you to say, Yoosung.”

Saeran felt his face reflexively scrunch in annoyance. She had said that as if he was incapable of so-called “pleasant interactions” with the other members of the RFA, he felt. He had been nothing _but_ pleasant since returning to the messenger after leaving Mint Eye. They were still so hung up on how he was in the past, how he was when his head was nothing but fog, when he wasn’t _himself_.

Not to say he had really found _himself_ yet. But with each passing day he realized more and more he sure as hell wasn’t _himself_ back then.

“Hey, no one has mentioned my new role,” Zen said. Saeran scoffed; so typical of him to bring the subject of himself up out of nowhere. “Check out the new poster advertisement art.” Followed by, as he guessed, some ridiculously showy picture of himself. It was a wonder they let these posters be advertised where children could see.

“Very nice, Zen,” Jaehee responded. “I look forward to watching you perform in a few weeks.”

Then an animated version of Saeyoung appeared, glasses shattering and mouth open in shock. Saeran snorted; he was going to have to ask his brother to make one of those for himself.

“Zen!!! Where is your shirt????? lol”

Saeran rolled his eyes and leaned his chair back forward to set his phone down. His time in the chat room was clearly over; he would rather not sit through Zen’s explanation of the artistic meaning behind his lack of a shirt and the obvious photo manipulation of the muscles of his chest. And he decided he was feeling a little bit hungry. He began to think where he may find a stash of those addictive potato chips his brother hoarded…

“Hey wait!”

Yoosung again. Saeran paused.

“Wait. Before we change the subject.” There was a brief delay as Yoosung typed up his next message.

“What are you doing tonight Saeran?”

Saeran lurched forward as the front legs of his chair slammed to the ground. He barely kept his grip tight enough to avoid dropping his phone.

Did Yoosung really just ask that? Why did he care?

Before Saeran had the chance to respond to his question, Zen responded once again. “Lol why are you asking that, Yoosung? Want to go on a date with him?”

“Shut up Zen,” Miyoung interjected.

“No,” Yoosung said. “It just seems like sometimes everyone ignores him and never asks how he’s doing. Sometimes he’ll say something and everyone will just kind of change the subject.”

Saeran’s throat tightened. All this time he had been mentally whining that no one was paying attention to him, that no one was giving him a fair chance of being understood. Now the opportunity presented itself and he... he found himself at a loss for words. What should he say? Should he try to impress the group and say he was going to do something fun and interesting, or be honest and admit that he was a total loser that sat around in his room all day and counted the clouds in the sky?

Humor. Humor was obviously the way to go.

“Just the usual,” he typed. “I’ll go hunting for Saeyoung’s stash of Honey Buddha chips and steal a few bags.”

He heard Miyoung burst into laughter a few rooms away.

And it certainly didn’t take long for his brother to respond. “Hey! See Miyoung I TOLD you I was counting fewer bags!”

“Relax,” she said. “You have a million and can easily get a million more. I think he can take as many as he likes.”

“Well,” Yoosung chimed back in. “If you’re not too busy with that I was actually wondering if you want to come by and play LOLOL with me. Saeyoung told me you started playing a little bit and that you’re getting pretty good.”

“You want me to come over?

“OMG!!!” Zen popped up again, his animated self in a state of shock. “So you DO want to go on a date!”

“Shut UP Zen!” Miyoung had a low tolerance for the pretty boy.

“No, nothing like that at all. But if you’re bored and want a friend my door is open.” An animated Yoosung smiled widely again. “I’ve tried texting you privately but I guess it doesn’t work on your version of the app?”

Saeran hesitated. “There’s a texting function…?”

“Hmm,” Saeyoung replied. “I might need to take a look at that weird hacked edition you have. I bet I can fix a lot of the issues you’re having, Saeran.”

“Thanks.” Maybe he could also add the feature to allow other members to know when he had joined the chat room. And change his name. “Yoosung,” he continued. “That sounds like fun. I don’t know the streets around your campus that well so I worry I would get lost.”

“Oh! I can take you!” Miyoung offered. “Then you can learn the way so you don’t get lost if you ever visit again.”

“Oh.”

Saeran set his phone in his lap and closed his eyes, taking a moment to collect himself. Just a few minutes ago his very existence was being ignored, as was tradition. And now someone was opening their door to him and extending an offer of friendship. Someone he would have hurt immensely without second thought just a few weeks ago.

Time was a funny thing.

He lifted his phone again; the chat room had gone quiet, seemingly awaiting what he would say.

“Yeah. I would love to.”

He could tell how eager Yoosung was for his response; he was throwing confetti in celebration immediately. “YAY!!!! Miyoung can I text you privately to come up with some time that works for us?”

“Absolutely!” Saeran heard the door to her and Saeyoung’s room creak open. She must have been getting ready to stop by to discuss it with him.

“I’ll do that! Oh, lunch is over,” Yoosung said. “I’ll see you later, Saeran. Bye everyone!”

“You two have fun!” Jaehee said. Saeran raised an eyebrow; now it seemed she was opening up.

_Yoosung has left the chat room._

There was a quiet knock at his door. “May I come in, Saeran?” came Miyoung’s voice.

“I guess I’ll go find that stash now,” Saeran said to the chatroom.

Outside the door Miyoung chuckled. “There’s one in our room in a secret compartment under the bed,” she said.

“Miyoung’s hooking me up!” Saeran hoped Saeyoung was still paying attention to the messenger.

“HEY!!!!” His wish was not in vain.

 _Unknown has left the chat room_. Even if there wasn’t a real way for everyone else to know it yet.


	2. Yellow Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -I'm looking for a place to start  
> -And everything feels so different now  
> *Just grab a hold of my hand  
> *I will lead you through this wonderland

**_Yellow Light_ **

\---

_Sprawled out across his wide rolling chair, one arm slung across the back and both legs lazily kicking over one armrest, Unknown absentmindedly picked at the skin of his cuticles. Today seemed to be a slow day in the RFA chat room, and he had spent the last hour of his free time considering if he wanted to repaint his fingernails from their usual black color to a dark crimson. Edgy._

_His plan had backfired. He had sent that random girl to the RFA to confuse them, make them spend all their time and resources figuring out how she got there, what she knew, and how to get her out of that apartment. While they were distracted he was going to break their defenses and find the information he needed, find a way to sabotage their resources, and in the meantime find a way to exact his revenge on ‘Luciel.’ Instead the members had all taken a fast liking to her, befriended her, and began planning a new charity party. And then to add insult to injury, she and Luciel had gotten very close. In his attempt to destroy him, he sent him happiness. Disgusting._

_He could still make it work to his advantage. He could use her to get to Luciel and hurt him in ways he never could be for. Somewhat unfortunate that this Miyoung girl had to get involved. Unknown wasn’t too bothered by it; some people had the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now he just needed to wait for the perfect opportunity to make an appearance._

_His computer beeped as his tracking code picked up on activity in the chat room. In one smooth motion Unknown swung his legs out and readjusted his posture into a proper sitting position as he perused the moving lines of chat text. It appeared this chat was just between Miyoung and Yoosung. That was fine; every interaction had the potential to give him important information. Provide him an opening. A weak point._

_This conversation was mundane, it seemed. As usual Yoosung was worrying over his grades while continuing to ignore his studies and play that silly game. Unknown wasn’t sure if he was a hypocrite or really completely lacking self-awareness. It was almost adorable._

_A comment from Miyoung caught his eye. ‘Yoosung, you’re just like a puppy! <3’_

_Unknown had to ponder over that line for a bit. The boy did somewhat remind him of a puppy: energetic, eager, playful. Loyal._

_He bit his lip and allowed his imagination to wander. Once he converted all the members of the RFA to Mint Eye, he would have to introduce himself to this Yoosung officially, and find out if he looked as good on a leash as he imagined he would._

_***_

They sky was cloudless. Most people would look up to see the uninterrupted sheet of blue and claim today was a beautiful day, but Saeran found himself annoyed and feeling gloomy at the current weather. Watching the clouds float by and change shape was an activity that promised to relieve his anxiety. An activity he found himself desperately needing.

They had to be nearly to Yoosung’s apartment by now. Miyoung was droning on about one thing or another; Saeran had lost track of the conversation a long time beforehand. She was well aware that he wasn’t paying attention to a word that she was saying, but her voice grounded him to the earth. Reminded him that his surroundings were real, that something in the world acknowledged his existence and proved he was just as real as his surroundings. Prevented him from entering a state of panic… or worse.

There were too many people in the world who spoke for the sake of hearing their own voice. Miyoung, though, was the only person Saeran had ever heard of who spoke for the sake of other people hearing her voice. Not in a way that made it seem as though she wanted them to just listen to her and acknowledge her, but to acknowledge themselves. He wondered if it was a natural skill she had, or if it had anything to do with what she had just finished studying. She had a degree in something or other… he would have to ask her about it someday.

A comforting touch on his hand tore him away from his thoughts and back into the car. He now realized how sore his bottom lip was from chewing on it. The webbing of skin between his left thumb and forefinger was tender from him pinching it with his fingernails, a tic he had developed when he was anxious. Miyoung’s hand on his brought the behavior to a halt, and Saeran looked down sheepishly into his lap as he took his right hand away.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

Miyoung gently interlaced their fingers, giving his hand a soft squeeze. “You don’t need to worry, Saeran,” she said. “I can’t think of a sweeter person I know than Yoosung. I really think you two are going to click naturally and become the best of friends. Truly.”

Saeran considered their interlocked hands. Had she been anyone else, he would have snatched his hand away immediately and leaned as far away as the car would allow him. Even Saeyoung, the only other person he didn’t mind entering his personal space, wouldn’t be allowed such an intimate touch as this. Miyoung was different though. Much like when she spoke, it felt as though her intentions were always different than anybody else’s. Everyone else had to put thought into what to do in awkward situations, comb through what the movies and books said was appropriate. But for Miyoung, it seemed to come naturally to her exactly what he needed.

“Miyoung?” he spoke up.

“Hmm?” She raised her eyebrows to acknowledge him, keeping her eyes on the road.

“What did you study in school? I just realized I’ve never asked.”

She smiled. “Social work. I just got my degree a few weeks before Unkn-“ Miyoung bit her lip and her face went red. “I mean before you… Before I joined the RFA.”

She considered ‘Saeran’ a separate entity from ‘Unknown,’ whether subconsciously or intentionally; he wasn’t sure if he should be worried or relieved. On one hand, this meant she trusted him. She probably had no concern that he would regress to his past violent and angry demeanor. He certainly had no intent to do so. On the other… She could be repressing the memories of how he had tried to hurt her. Did she not hold him accountable for his actions?

The bite-shaped scar on Saeran’s wrist suddenly burned, and now he pulled his hand away from hers.

Silence stretched between them, louder than the hum of the car engine and the gentle _thuds_ of the wheels crossing over bumps in the roadway.

“Miyoung…” Saeran muttered. He would have thought she hadn’t heard him if not for the slight rise in her eyebrows once again. “What if I say something wrong?”

The car came to rest at a traffic stop. Miyoung turned her head to look at him briefly, her face contorted into an expression of mild worry.

“I know you have faith that I’m getting better,” he continued, “that this… kind, soft person is surfacing and that the ‘true’ me is making himself known. But…” He hesitated, and resumed pinching at the soft skin near his left thumb. “I never know when that person is coming back, Miyoung. I don’t want to hurt anybody.”

Miyoung remained silent. Saeran noticed her lift her gaze and look past him. Once the car was moving again, she drove for a few seconds and turned into the parking lot of what appeared to be a shoe store. Saeran furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as Miyoung shifted the car into park, then turned her body to face him.

“Saeran…” she began, reaching forward to put her hand on his shoulder. He flinched slightly at the touch, but did not pull away. “Are you still worried about that?”

“I’m _always_ worried about that,” he admitted. He grimaced. “I’m sure this may not come as a big surprise to you, but I did not like anyone in the RFA for quite a while. You could probably say I _hated_ everyone. I mean, I had formulated these _plans_ to…” He groaned, shaking the thought from his head. He wasn’t going to talk about that with her.

The pressure on his shoulder tightened, grounding him. Saeran inhaled and exhaled loudly, then continued. “I feel like I’ve been given a chance I really don’t deserve, Miyoung. And I have a lot to prove. A _lot_. What if I say something wrong? It’s too easy to let something… something _nasty_ slip out.”

“Saeran.” Miyoung’s voice was low and serious. Saeran cringed, turning his head to touch his chin to his collarbone and worrying over his lip again.

“Saeran,” she repeated. “Six weeks ago you wouldn’t even look at your brother. You pretended I didn’t exist and spouted out your hate for the world and everything in it every time someone tried to speak to you. Now you’re on your way to spend time with someone from the organization you vowed to destroy, and you worry over whether you’ll hurt his feelings. You’ve come so incredibly far in such a short amount of time, and that speaks a lot to your character. You are an _amazing_ person Saeran. I hope you realize how proud I am of you.”

Saeran looked up and found Miyoung wearing a gentle expression, her eyes soft and sparkling. “Proud?” he asked.

“ _Incredibly_ proud,” she emphasized. “I never could have imagined you would be at this point right now. It’s not so much that I didn’t have faith in you.” Her hand moved from his shoulder down to his hands, separating them so he could not pinch the skin. “But your life has been so unfathomably terrible up to the point you came to us that I… I just couldn’t imagine how difficult it would be. I was prepared for the worst. But you have this determination to make things right that I’ve never seen in another human being. I aspire to be like that someday.”

“Like _me_?” In all his twenty-some years, no one had _ever_ told Saeran they wanted to be like him. No one would have any reason to; his life was like a culmination of every misfortune people deliberately _avoid_. His eyes began to sting, and he clenched them shut and shook his head. “I… This all might be true, but I could still say something bad. I’m not better. I don’t know if I ever will be.”

“That’s fine. It may be a long time before that doubt disappears completely. I just want you to realize how much you’ve improved, that the hardest part is over, and that you can handle the rest.” Miyoung patted his hand. “Everyone makes mistakes, Saeran. That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to try to be happy.”

Saeran was silent. Miyoung respected his desire to stay that way for a bit, and they sat there together, listening to the murmur of cars passing by on the nearby road. Thoughts he couldn’t even begin to process whizzed through his mind, and he tried desperately to catch one so he could put a response into words.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. It was all he could muster.

Miyoung’s smile grew. “Like I said, Yoosung is easily the sweetest person in the RFA. He’ll be understanding and patient. You can do whatever you feel you need to and he will go along with it.” She removed her hand and put it on the gearshift. “And I’ll be just downtown. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, just call me. I’ll be five minutes away.”

Saeran nodded and sat straight up in his seat. He caught a glimpse of himself in the side view mirror. A bright shade of red had been bleeding into his white hair over the course of the past week or so. He was going to have to do something about that very soon, before people began to think something was wrong with his scalp.

“Are you ready? Or do you need more time?”

Saeran looked away from the mirror and back at Miyoung. The corner of his mouth twitched up.

“No, I’m ready,” he replied. “I’m sure Yoosung has been waiting long enough.”

***

Miyoung pulled into the parking lot of a large building complex about fifteen minutes later, and Saeran assumed they had reached their destination. As she drove around searching for a spot to park, Saeran looked out the window and counted the number of floors of the building closest to them. He had gotten up to eight before Miyoung turned the car to face away from the building, then parked.

“Yoosung doesn’t have a car,” she stated, “so he gave his parking pass to Saeyoung.” She took a large plastic tag out of her bag and hung it from the rearview mirror.

“Really? Why?” Saeran asked.

“He’s really the only person in the RFA who knows where he lives. Well, I do too now.” She looked at him and smiled. “That’s the biggest perk of dating your brother. Now we _both_ get to use Yoosung’s random parking pass.”

Saeran smirked at her joke. “What about hanging out with me?”

“Right! How could I possibly forget?” Miyoung laughed, and Saeran felt his mouth stretch into a smile; he liked when his jokes landed. “I guess the parking pass is the second biggest perk.”

She turned the car off and took the key out of the ignition, then put it into her bag. Saeran waited as she turned and reached into the back seat of the car and pulled forward a tote bag. “Here,” she said, setting the bag into his lap.

He looked down and saw the bag was full of large bags of those Honey Buddha potato chips. There had to be around six or seven bags stuffed into the tote. He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Saeyoung has plenty. Too many, dare I say. Sitting there. Tempting me.” Miyoung tried to hide it, but she was just as addicted to the stuff as her boyfriend. He once saw her eat an entire bag in one sitting while watching a movie without realizing it. Once she realized the chips were gone she turned red in embarrassment, but his brother seemed to gleam with pride. That was a weird night.

“Anyway, Yoosung loves the stuff too,” she continued. “He’ll appreciate you bringing these over. And it’s probably a good snack while you play the game, right?”

Saeran shrugged. He was by no means complaining. He wasn’t as into the chips as she and his brother were, but he could easily eat a quarter of a bag if he were bored and hungry enough. They were tasty.

“Alright, let’s go. Oh, I’ll take that back so you can carry your computer bag.” Miyoung took the tote bag and slung it over her shoulder as she exited the car.

Saeran opened his door and stepped out, carefully placing his computer bag over his shoulders before closing the door. He followed Miyoung through the parking lot and into the front door of the closest building; as the cool conditioned air hit him his skin prickled, and the tightening of his chest and uneasiness of his stomach returned. He held his hands close to his chest as he followed Miyoung through the lobby and up the elevator. His left hand was sore from pinching it so much for the past hour.

The elevator came to a stop, and they walked together down the hallway. Miyoung stopped in front of a doorway, and gestured for Saeran to knock on the door.

He looked at her for a moment, then hesitantly stepped forward, raising his fist. The door swung open before his third knock even landed.

Saeran was taken aback by the sight of the blond boy in front of him. This entire time he had thought Yoosung’s hair was brown.

“You’re here!” Yoosung exclaimed, his grin bright and wide. He bounced lightly on his toes before hopping forward and tightly hugging Saeran. “Oh, it’s so great to finally meet you!”

Saeran stiffened. The last time someone had hugged him was soon after he had been taken out of the hospital and he and his brother were beginning to repair their relationship. He and Miyoung had offered hugs with outstretched arms since then, but Saeran always shied away. He wasn’t sure how comfortable he was intruding their personal space. But this was the first time since that last hug with Saeyoung that someone had stepped forward and taken the initiative. It was the _only_ time someone had hugged him in greeting, or out of happiness in general.

It was really weird. This hug felt much warmer than that last one with Saeyoung.

Saeran didn’t realize how stiff he was, or that he was holding his breath, until Yoosung pulled away and his expression dropped. “Oh! Oh.” He covered his mouth and stepped back. “Oh, I’m sorry. Sorry, sorry sorry I’m so sorry. That was a huge invasion of personal space.”

Saeran loosed his posture and exhaled. “No, it’s alright,” he said. “That was just… unexpected.”

“Sorry!” Yoosung blurted out again. “I’ll ask next time! I just get excited sometimes. Sorry.”

He really was just like a puppy.

“But hey! Come in!” He opened the door wider and waved his hand to invite Saeran and Miyoung inside. “You actually have great timing, there’s a special event starting in about half an hour and we can play it together!”

Saeran stepped forward, and looked back to Miyoung. She just shook her head and passed the tote to Yoosung. “I’ll be leaving in just a minute, actually. This is for you two to enjoy.”

Saeran could almost see Yoosung’s mouth begin to water. “Oh… I haven’t had this stuff in weeks! What’s in here, like eight bags?” He turned around and called out. “Saeran, she got us a lot of the good stuff!”

He heard Yoosung and Miyoung begin to speak with each other, but he wasn’t paying too much attention to the voices behind him anymore. Saeran took in his surroundings; this was just a small studio apartment, but appeared to be comfortable enough for Yoosung. It wasn’t nearly as messy as how most of the rooms at home were, but by no means as clean as he kept his personal space. Clothes in various states of being folded were scattered about the floor, the bed, and the closet. His dresser was completely covered with various figurines, hair clips, unopened tampons, and empty snack wrappers and water bottles. And everywhere he looked there was an open book, lines highlighted and pages dog-eared.

Saeran nearly jumped out of his skin when Yoosung’s voice piped up behind him. “I haven’t had much time to clean,” he said. “I don’t think it’s too messy but if you need more room I can tidy up a bit more.”

“It smells really good in here,” Saeran said. He had been hit with a wave of a savory-sweet smell the second the door opened, and rather than the smell fading as he spent time in the apartment it only seemed to get stronger. His nerves had kept him from eating a full meal before he and Miyoung left. He could feel his stomach on the verge of loudly grumbling, and that smell wasn’t helping.

“Really? I made up some fried rice for lunch, and I made a bunch extra in case you were hungry.” Yoosung lifted his shoulders. “I’m short on vegetables so there’s just onion and egg in it. Do you want some?”

“Uh…” Saeran looked to Miyoung, who gave him a look that told him there was no need to ask for her permission. His face warmed; he was so used to asking for permission for necessities and common courtesies. He was about to politely reject the offer so Yoosung could save the rest to eat later, but before he could say anything, his stomach made his protests known. No point in lying now.

“I am hungry, and it smells delicious,” Saeran responded. “So if you have extra…”

“ _So_ much extra. I’ll go make you a plate! You can set up your computer on the table right there, if you want.” Yoosung gestured in the general direction of the nearby table, then walked away.

Saeran looked back up to Miyoung, who was still standing just outside the doorway. She smiled and held her hands in front of herself. “I am five minutes away if you need _anything_ ,” she reminded him. “I think I’ll pick out a new sweater or two for you. Are you okay with surprises?”

He nodded. He trusted her taste in clothes completely. Anything would be better than something he would pick out personally, but she was always dressed well.

“Good. Have fun, okay?” She raised her hand and waved, then turned and closed the door behind her.

Saeran was left alone in the middle of the living space, but it was far from quiet. He could hear every car that drove by on the street below, and Yoosung was shuffling about in the kitchen. Saeran’s mouth watered at the thought of the home-made food coming his way. Miyoung tried to cook from time to time, but she wasn’t the most skilled chef in the kitchen. And his brother’s idea of a “home-cooked” meal was taking a slice of pizza out of the refrigerator and warming it in the microwave.

He stepped towards the table and took his computer out of its bag. His heart began to race, but he realized he felt a little different than his usual state of impending panic.

He was excited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for already providing so many words of encouragement! This is my first real fanfiction endeavor, and I'm really happy to see people are enjoying reading it. It will get more in depth as the chapters progress, and I'm excited to take these characters and this pairing in this direction.


	3. Sloom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The books that I keep by my bed are full of your stories  
> That I drew up from a little dream of mine, a little nightmare of yours  
> To be asked to take this plunge, to forgive and forget  
> And be the better man, to be a better man, to be a better man

Saeran was learning a lot of things over the course of this special event. For one, he had never participated in a team strategy, which had been an adjustment so far, forcing him to change his play methods in order to work together. And by working with a number of people at a much higher level than him, he was learning a lot of great attack and defense strategies, the fine details of the game.

But above all else, Saeran had learned that the sweet, gentle Yoosung used very _colorful_ language while playing LOLOL.

“Mother f-“ Yoosung leaned forward, crouching uncomfortably with his chest resting on the edge of his desk and his face nearly pressed to the screen. He stared down the waves of monsters as their team plowed through, struggling to make their way toward the final boss of the event. With every enemy he tore down his grimace increased. His top lip curled and his nose scrunched, yet a smooth line stretched between his brow and the button tip of his nose. Saeran found himself admiring how his nose turned up at the tip, round and soft and probably perfect for poking with a finger…

“Saeran!”

Saeran was brought back to his own mind, just in time to bring his attention back to his screen and defend himself from an incoming monster. He was able to block attacks coming his way but he was still too low of a level to fight back; Yoosung’s character, the heavily armored obvious guild leader, came to his rescue, taking down the fiend in the most dramatic manner the overhead third person camera would allow.

“Shit,” Yoosung breathed, “we lost our healer. We don’t have enough time to wait for him to respawn. Do you have any spare health potions?”

“Uh, yeah.” Saeran clicked and pressed at the keyboard until he managed to open his inventory. “I have… fifty-seven.”

“ _Fifty-seven?!_ Why do you have so many?”

“I don’t know, in case I ever needed them!”

“Well, without a healer at the final boss fight of a huge event, we might need them. Can you give me like ten?”

“Uh… Yeah hold on. Open your trade.”

When the trade was done, Saeran saw Yoosung almost fall backwards out of his seat next to him. “Saeran these are _high_ potions! You have _fifty-seven_ of these?” Yoosung huffed. “You’ve only been playing for two months and I have no idea what you’re doing but you’re doing it right. You’ve got to be on track to be high ranked. I’m definitely keeping you on my team.”

Saeran felt his heart glow at that statement. He did have so much free time during the day while Miyoung went to her part time job at the coffee shop and Saeyoung did… who knows what. He spent hours on LOLOL boards, immersing himself in theories and strategies to improve his skills in the game. It was simple, and honestly silly if he thought about it, but it was reassuring to know he was doing something right. Even if it was just in a fantasy world.

Yoosung and Saeran traveled to the next room to reunite with the remaining team, eagerly waiting for the chance to take down the final boss. The event promised a significant amount of loot for those who managed to succeed.

Yoosung adjusted his headset and spoke to the team. “Healer’s down so get your potion reserves out. I do hope you guys actually saved at least ten regular potions like I told you to.” Saeran didn’t have a headset yet, but he assumed at least one member had not listened after Yoosung rolled his eyes and clicked through the trade. “Fine, I can spare two high potions. Don’t waste them, this isn’t going to be easy.”

The next five minutes consisted of Yoosung explaining the team strategy to finish off the challenge. At the end he covered his microphone and explained Saeran’s role to him personally; Saeran really did wish he had a headset so he could confer over the best course of action with the rest of the team. He would ask Yoosung and Saeyoung for recommendations later.

“I just told him his job,” Yoosung suddenly said, bending the microphone back towards his mouth. “He’s sitting right next to be. No, he doesn’t have a headset, he’s new. Look, if you don’t like it, you can go, I’m the leader and I said he’s good. He knows what he’s doing. Stop being a jackass.”

 Maybe he didn’t want a headset.

After having taken charge of the team and quieting any dissent, Yoosung led the team into the final room. Yoosung had assigned him a minimum-effort “support-and-defense” role that just had him stepping in the way and taking damage when a team member was hurt, then stepping away and recovering when the other team member was healed up. Just enough to get the other team members to accept his presence, but low enough risk for his low level status, assuming the boss kept its attacks consistent in strength. But Saeran felt his blood turn cold when he read on the monster’s stats and considered his role in taking it down; this guy definitely had a trick or two up his sleeve, and it may be hard to predict an oncoming special attack.

The team took no time in beginning their attacks on the monster, and there was almost no effort needed to significantly chip away at its health bar. Its attacks were fast and frequent, but low-damage and predictable. It was easy.

_Way_ too easy.

“Yoosung,” he said, tilting his head in his companion’s direction. “I think he has a really big attack coming when his health gets low.”

“Yeah.” Yoosung nodded. “I think you’re right. Everyone be on the alert, this thing is going down too easy. Slow down and back up, he’s getting low.” Yoosung groaned. “I said back up, we need to strategize for when that big atta-“

Someone didn’t listen. Everyone was too close to the target, so Saeran could not pick out who had landed the critical blow, but suddenly the health bar flashed bright yellow and the monster let out a screech obnoxious enough to cause Yoosung to lift one padded speaker from his ear. The boss room went dark, and Yoosung resumed swearing into his headset.

“Shields up!”

Saeran was too slow. He forgot the key combination to pull up his ward, and as the environment reilluminated he only had time to see an ax rapidly approaching his character. Then a screen of red. Someone at his level didn’t stand a chance.

Next to him, Yoosung grabbed at his hair. “Son of a-!” He furiously tapped at his keyboard, and from his observer’s camera Saeran saw the boss go down unceremoniously. “I _told_ you to back off and restrategize! We lost someone! Mother…. Ugh!” Saeran could almost hear the team apologizing over the headset speakers.

Yoosung’s cursing continued quietly as Saeran watched the team worked together to bring down the final few bars of health points through the observation cam. The boss went down in a theatrical display of lightning and flames, and from Yoosung’s headphones Saeran could hear the muffled ceremonious trumpeteering of victory. Yoosung scoffed and tore off his headset, and Saeran craned his neck to take a peek at the spoils of battle for the surviving team members.

“Whoa,” he breathed. “That’s really good gear. I almost wish I made it just so I got that stuff.”

“Huh?” Yoosung raised an eyebrow, and turned his attention to his screen. “Oh, yeah, I guess this stuff is pretty okay. You don’t have it?”

Saeran shook his head, and Yoosung clicked his tongue.

“Open your trade,” he said, clicking on his mouse. “I have enough stuff as good as this. Consider it repayment for those high potions.”

“What? No, it’s yours. I didn’t make it.”

“Yeah, because my team doesn’t know how to listen to fucking instructions. It’s almost like I know what I’m doing or something, but they still don’t listen sometimes.” Yoosung sighed and popped a chip into his mouth. The bag had been neglected for some time as they approached the end of the event, and suddenly Saeran’s mouth was watering. “I can trade it with you later, if you want,” Yoosung continued, the chip crunching in his mouth between words.

“Yeah, let’s do that. I’m actually kind of hungry.” Saeran reached over and pulled the bag towards himself.

Yoosung closed out of the program and turned off his monitor. “Oh, do you want more rice? I can heat a bowl up in the microwave.”

Saeran’s hand was halfway into the bag when he paused. “Oh, uh… No, no. I meant I was just going to eat these chips. I don’t…” The thought of more of that homemade rice had his mouth almost tingling with how much it was watering; he could taste the care and thought that went into the dish. But fresh, warm food was a rare commodity that took a lot of work to make, hours of labor, and he didn’t want to take away from Yoosung’s leftovers. “I don’t want to take more of your food.”

“What?” Yoosung stood, almost indignant. “Saeran, I have so much. It’ll go bad before I’m able to finish it all. And I’ll get sick of it. Really, you’re welcome to eat as much as you want.”

Saeran watched Yoosung stroll in the direction of the kitchen, his heart racing. He really was wondering if Miyoung was that good at reading people, or if Saeran was just that easy to read, with how easily Yoosung addressed Saeran’s unspoken concerns.

“Seriously, do you want another bowl? I’ll make one now. You can’t live off of those chips, you know. Even as good as they are. Great for period cramps, by the way.”

“I’ll let Miyoung know.”

Yoosung snorted, turning to face Saeran. “Is she as addicted to that stuff as much as Sev- I mean, Saeyoung?” He shook his head quickly. “Does she know how to cook?”

“If she does, she has yet to show me. I’m pretty sure she and my brother are going to die of malnutrition one of these days.” Saeran scratched at his face and paused when his fingernail brushed over a scab on his chin. That wasn’t something he liked to do in front of people, but as he resisted the urge to pick it off, the nerves in his fingers screamed at him to do it. He clenched his eyes and shook it off. “I’m usually stuck getting takeout or eating one of their weird sandwich creations and hoping I’m not allergic to whatever’s in them.”

Yoosung tapped at his chin thoughtfully, and waved his hand toward the kitchen to invite Saeran over. Saeran stared at him for a moment before carefully closing his laptop and slowly bringing himself to his feet. As he walked over Yoosung turned away and walked into the kitchen.

“I have stuff to make spaghetti,” Yoosung explained, his voice muffled by him facing away. He made it to his goal and turned his head around, investigating the room, then leaped forward when he located what he was looking for. “I can teach you how to make it, and then you can cook for yourself. And Saeyoung and Miyoung. The Young couple.” He snorted.

Saeran’s hand found its way back to his chin, and a smear of red dressed his fingertip when he pulled his hand away. He grimaced and pressed the back of his hand to the spot to hide his mistake. He took a moment to process Yoosung’s offer, watching quietly as Yoosung sifted through his cabinets and pulled out various ingredients and cookware.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Saeran said. “I don’t want to…” _I don’t want to impose_.

Yoosung turned and faced Saeran, arms full to overflowing and at risk of dropping everything to the ground. “Oh,” he said, “I didn’t even ask if you were ready to go home. Do you? You don’t have to stay.”

Saeran’s hand dropped from his chin and he turned his gaze away from Yoosung. Yoosung was clearly in no rush to get rid of him, hanging onto him in the tournament despite the team’s protest, and now hanging onto him after the end of the event despite that being their only plan. His failure during the event had upset Yoosung in that he had been lost, not an inconvenience, and hadn’t put Yoosung off. Yoosung was nearly vibrating with energy, smiling with every word he uttered to Saeran and now eager to teach him something new. 

“No, staying is fine,” Saeran replied, still looking away. “Um, I want to stay.”

“Oh! Good. This is really easy, I promise, only like two ingredients. I just buy sauce from the store. Someday I can try to make my own, and then I can teach you that too.” Yoosung unloaded the ingredients in his arms onto the counter, then proceeded to return all but two jars of sauce and a box of pasta to the cupboards.

“Also,” he continued, reaching over and tearing a paper towel off of the roll hanging over his sink. He turned toward Saeran and pressed the paper towel to his bleeding chin, then turned back away once Saeran reached up to hold it in place. “This makes way too much for me. But I’ll make this same amount, and then you can bring the rest home! Okay so cooking the pasta takes forever, so set your pot of water on the oven first…”

Yoosung’s voice drained out to nothing as Saeran gently pressed the paper towel to his chin, considering what had just happened. Yoosung had handed him the paper towel to help clean up, then continued about his business as if it were nothing more troubling than a stubborn hair falling into his sight. No rude comments, unlike Saeyoung’s reaction when he caught Saeran picking at his skin.

Saeran inhaled deeply as he watched Yoosung fuss about the kitchen, preparing his pots and spoons. A breath of fresh air.

Yoosung’s voice returned to Saeran’s awareness as he took the pasta out of its box. He held the pasta over the pot, one hand on each end of the bunch. “And if you break the pasta in half, it’ll fit better and cook evenly. Just like th- Shit!” Small fragments of broken pasta flung over the stove and onto the floor. “Damn it, that _always_ happens. Oh well.” Yoosung shrugged. “I’ll sweep it up later.”

Yoosung produced another pot, and in one smooth movement he swept up one of the jars of sauce. His smooth actions were abruptly interrupted as he gripped at the lid and turned… and turned… and turned. His face contorted into an expression of frustration, then anger, then relaxed into one of defeat as he stopped struggling and let his arms go limp at his sides. After a moment to take a deep breath, Yoosung stepped to the sink and ran the lid under running water.

“Okay, so you might run into this problem sometimes,” he said, turning back to Saeran and drying the jar lid with his shirt. “So run the lid under hot water for a few seconds, then just…” He gripped the lid again and strained to turn it. “You just… Aw man, come ON!”

Saeran stepped back and leaned against the wall, watching the scene in front of him unfold. Yoosung continued to battle with the jar of pasta sauce, his face reddening and his nose scrunching the same way it had before. He looked up, and Saeran must have been making some sort of taunting expression, because Yoosung stepped forward and pushed the jar into Saeran’s hands.

“You try,” he said shortly. “My hands are tired.”

Saeran blinked, then pulled the bottom of his shirt over the jar and turned. The lid came off a second later with a satisfying _pop_.

Yoosung took the jar back, pouting. “It took a minute for the hot water to kick in.”

“The lid was ice cold,” Saeran observed.

Yoosung _harrumphed_ , and poured the contents of the jar into the pot on the stove. Saeran felt his body tense. Should he have let Yoosung keep trying to open the jar? Maybe he should have said Yoosung had done all the hard work and his attempt was just the lucky last turn. His teeth ground together, and he stood up straight and looked around for something he could do to help. Or, perhaps he should let Yoosung do all the hard work and he should stand back. He wasn’t in any position to act stronger or better than anybody.

Saeran didn’t realize how obvious his worry was until Yoosung turned back around to hand him the next jar to open, his expression dropping when his eyes met Saeran’s.

“Oh no,” he said, “I was only teasing. I’m not actually angry, at all! Thank you for helping.” He held out the new jar. “Can you open this one too?”

“You’re just like Miyoung,” Saeran blurted out. Yoosung raised an eyebrow and Saeran bit his lip. He had a terrible habit of letting words tumble out of his mouth when he wasn’t guarding himself, and saying that both Yoosung and Miyoung could read his mind knew what to say and do when he was feeling unsure of himself was not something he felt like admitting to someone he had just formally met only a few hours ago.

“Oh, you open jars for her too? That explains why you’re so good at it.”

_Pop!_

“Yeah, that’s exactly it,” Saeran replied, handing the sauce back. Yoosung took it from his hand and emptied its contents into the pot as well.

Yoosung opened a cabinet and pulled down shakers of salt and pepper, continuing his lesson without skipping a beat. “I don’t make my own sauce, but you can personalize store sauce! But um… all I have is salt and pepper. Real spices are expensive. But add whatever you like bit by bit, and taste as you go, and stop when you like it!" He turned the shakers over, and shook and shook for what felt like a full minute.

“You’re not tasting it as you go,” Saeran muttered.

“Huh? Oh. Right. Shit.” Yoosung stirred the additions into the sauce, then scooped some up and brought it to his mouth. He coughed. “Ah, too much pepper. Um… oh well. It’s not bad. Anyway, just let the sauce warm up until it’s hot, and when it’s done we can stir in the noodles. Speaking of which, they should be almost done.”

Saeran stepped forward towards the oven and towards Yoosung to observe the boiling pot of water. The water made a rolling bubbling sound, and he almost couldn’t see the noodles through the mask of bubbles. “How can you tell when they’re done?” he asked.

“That’s the most fun part!” Yoosung exclaimed, bouncing on his toes slightly. “You take a noodle and throw it against a wall, and if it sticks it’s done!”

“What?” Saeran looked at Yoosung, his own incredulous expression greeted with one of excitement. “That’s ridiculous, how does that work?”

“The water makes it… It gets sticky beca- Hmm.” Yoosung brought a hand to his chin and contemplated. “Umm… No clue. But it totally works, watch.” Using a spoon, he picked bunch of noodles out of the water, blew to cool them, then picked one up with his fingers and flung it toward a wall about two feet away. And the noodle stuck and stayed in place, a curl of beige against the white wall that refused to budge from its place on the wall.

Saeran grinned, and a laugh escaped from his throat. He wasn’t sure what was so funny about this development, but when Yoosung held another noodle in front of him, he found it impossible to resist trying it out for himself. The next noodle stuck, and his smile grew, and the two of them repeated this cycle until seven noodles stuck to the wall and two noodles that had succumbed to gravity laid limply on the floor.

“Okay, okay,” Yoosung said, his voice airy with laughter. “We need to strain these before they get overcooked. And leave a few noodles to eat.”

Yoosung picked up the pot and carefully passed it to Saeran, then instructed him to bring it to the sink and pour it into the large perforated bowl – the colander – sitting in there. They left the noodles sitting there for some time, while the sauce on the stove continued to warm. Over that time Yoosung dismissed himself to use the restroom, and Saeran took the opportunity of being left alone to throw two more noodles against the wall, aiming to knock down the first with the second. The second remained stuck to the wall.

Once Yoosung was back and the sauce was warm, they switched off pouring the noodles and stirring them thoroughly into the sauce. Yoosung took out two plates and scooped a serving of spaghetti onto each, then handed Saeran the slightly larger portion. They took their plates back into Yoosung’s living space, booted up their computers, and ate as they looked into information on upcoming special events.

Yoosung was right; there was a touch too much pepper added to the sauce. It tickled the roof of his mouth, but he scarfed down every bite, threatening to drip sauce onto his precious keyboard. No, the sauce wasn’t homemade, and the noodles were maybe a little overcooked and stuck together, but the pasta felt… warm. Warmer and “homier” than anything Saeran could get from takeout, or any haphazard emergency attempt at a sandwich his brother made. He couldn’t wait to try to make his own.

By the time Saeran was done with his helping, he was more than satisfied. Yoosung pointed out, however, that there was still way too much pasta left in the pot for him to eat alone, and invited Saeran once again to take some home with him. They made their way back to the kitchen, discussing the next event that was only two weeks away, and their plans to improve their team strategy for a better outcome. The food was only half put away, and their plan only just being scratched out, when the sound of the doorbell resonated through the kitchen.

Yoosung gave Saeran half a nod and walked to the door as Saeran continued stuffing the leftover food into flimsy plastic containers. Saeran heard the quiet click of the lock, the subtle creak of the door, and then the ringing of Miyoung’s voice float into the kitchen from the living room. She greeted Yoosung as Saeran pressed a lid to the container, then abandoned the food to join the other two in the living space.

“Oh, there you are Saeran!” she said, smiling as Saeran entered the room. “I was just about to ask Yoosung how everything went.”

“Oh. It was good,” Saeran responded quietly, processing the question and wondering why she was here. He hadn’t called her to tell her that he needed to go back home. Had Yoosung texted her to ask her to get Saeran out of there when he wasn’t looking?

“That’s good to hear. I’m really sorry to ask you to come back home already. Saeyoung got back from his interview a little while ago and now he’s whining that he’s too lonely in the apartment,” Miyoung explained, answering his unvoiced question. “You know how he gets.”

Saeran nodded and wordlessly turned around to pack up his computer and retrieve his bag. Saeyoung had been spending the past few weeks hunting for new employment at Miyoung’s request, and although he had managed to land a surprising number of interviews, he botched every single one and didn’t ever get so much as a courtesy call back telling him they found someone else to fill the position. Saeran knew his brother was awkward, but he was bright and very good at putting on a show of any personality he wanted; it made him think Saeyoung may have been intentionally sabotaging himself. He had no reason to ever want to leave the comfort of his apartment, it seemed, and he was so used to working from home anyway. Chances are this interview ended much the same way, but he would only find out once he and Miyoung returned home.

As he slung his bag on his shoulder and made his way back to the door and past Miyoung, Saeran saw Yoosung bounce lightly on his toes.

“Hey, Saeran, do you think you can gain two levels by the event next week?” he asked. “When you come back over for it that should give you the edge you need to really kick ass. Erm…” Yoosung looked tentatively at Miyoung, who was wearing a smirk on her face. “Kick butt.”

Saeran turned around to face Yoosung. They had been interrupted in their plan making process by Miyoung showing up, and Saeran hadn’t gotten to the point of asking Yoosung if he even was okay with Saeran coming over again. His visit hadn’t gone poorly by any means, he knew, but he also thought it didn’t seem like it had been anything to write home about. His heart fluttered lightly at the thought of Yoosung not only being alright with Saeran coming over again, but being the one to propose it.

“Yeah, I can do that,” Saeran answered. “Actually, I’ll come back with _three_ levels.”

Yoosung grinned. “Sounds great! I’ll see you then.” He lifted his hand and did a little wave. “Bye, guys!”

“Goodbye, Yoosung,” Miyoung responded, stepping back to give Saeran room to step out into the hallway. As Saeran walked forward, she closed the door behind them, and lead him a few doors down back to the elevator they had used to come up.

Just as she pressed the “down” button, the memory of the containers of spaghetti and rice struck Saeran. He passed his computer bag to Miyoung. “Wait, wait,” he said, “I forgot something.”

He walked quickly back to Yoosung’s door, and as he raised his hand to knock, the door swung open quickly.

“Wai-!” Yoosung began to call out, cut off as he was suddenly face to face with Saeran. In his hands were the containers Saeran had left behind. “Oh! You’re right there. Sorry.”

“I forgot those,” Saeran said, gesturing to the food. “I guess you noticed.”

“Yeah, here!” Yoosung passed the containers into Saeran’s hands. “You shouldn’t eat takeout and chips for the rest of your life, so I didn’t want you to forget them. It’ll give enough food for at least a few days.”

“Unless Saeyoung eats it all,” Saeran remarked. Yoosung snickered, leading to a small smile gracing Saeran’s face.

Yoosung’s expression suddenly changed into one of mild apprehension, and he interlaced his fingers and squeezed his hands together. “Um,” he began, turning his eyes away, “thanks for coming over, though. I don’t… I don’t really have a lot of close friends or anything at school, and no one I play games with lives close by. So I get… just… a little lonely, you know?” He looked back up at Saeran. “So… yeah. Thanks. I really did have a lot of fun.”

“Oh, uh… I did too.” Saeran looked around, suddenly unsure of how to handle this sincerity. He began to ask himself what Miyoung may do in this situation, but he didn’t have a way with words like she did. His sentiments were always best left unspoken, he thought, and he seemed to do well expressing them nonverbally. He was sincerely grateful to Yoosung for having given him company and kind, genuine human interaction. He hadn’t realized until now, though, that Yoosung had felt the same way. Saeran didn’t know he was capable of giving that to someone else.

He shifted the containers to a secure grip underneath his arm, and stepped forward to wrap his free arm around Yoosung. Yoosung returned the hug without hesitation, and wrapped his arms tightly around Saeran. This hug was even warmer than the one he had been greeted with.

When they parted, Saeran gave Yoosung a small wave. “I’ll see you next week,” he said.

Yoosung waved back. “Bye, Saeran,” he replied, closing the door quietly as Saeran turned to leave.

Saeran walked back down the hallway, where Miyoung was still waiting outside the elevator; he had been sure she would have been back down by the car by now. She pressed the “down” button again, a big bright grin plastered on her face.

“What?” Saeran asked, noticing her expression.

“Oh, nothing~” she responded in a sing-song voice. Saeran rolled his eyes as the elevator doors opened and they walked on together. She must have received some silly flirtatious text from Saeyoung while he had been picking up the food.

They rode down the elevator mostly in silence, but Miyoung seemed to be humming with some strange positive energy that Saeran could not understand. They returned to the car and began the trip back home. Miyoung spoke for most of the long drive, filling the air with stories about her experience at the shopping center and descriptions of the clothes she had bought for him, Saeyoung, and of course, for herself. Saeran remained quiet, once again taking in and relishing in her positive energy as he watched the scenery whiz past the window. He closed his eyes for a moment, and before he knew it, Miyoung was tapping his leg to let him know they had returned home.

They both were cleared to get past security without solving any riddles or puzzles or crossing any ridiculous language barriers, at Miyoung’s insistence. Saeyoung greeted them both as they walked through the front door to the apartment, but it was only Miyoung he took into a gentle embrace.

“How did shopping go?” Saeyoung asked.

“Good,” she replied, wrapping her arms around him. She gave him a chaste peck on the lips. “Everything is still in the car, but I’ll go get it in a minute.”

“No, no, I’ll get it. How did Saeran’s visit with Yoosung go?” His voice was laced with a subtle tone of tension; he seemed to expect a negative answer.

“You could ask him yourself,” Miyoung said. A sly smile crossed her lips. “But I have a feeling it went well. How did your interview go?”

Saeyoung made a noncommittal noise, and Miyoung clicked her tongue. “Same as usual, you know,” he responded. “But listen…”

His voice drowned out at Saeran walked away from the two and went to his room. _They can have a moment to themselves_ , he thought to himself as he closed the door. He walked to his bed and sat down, taking the book resting on his nightstand and flipping to the dog-eared page. His eyes swept over a few lines of words, but his mind absorbed none. After a few seconds of returning to his starting point repeatedly, Saeran sighed in frustration and refolded the corner of the page before returning the book to its spot on the nightstand. He would have to return to it a little bit later, when his mind wasn’t so occupied with the events of the day.

_I hope you realize how proud I am of you,_ Miyoung had told him. _I aspire to be like that someday._

Saeran laid down and covered his eyes with his arm.

_Thanks. I really did have a lot of fun today_.

Twenty one years of torture and a never-ending hell. And now three people Saeran had aimed to hurt only a few months ago were on the path to change his life for the better. Saeran could feel his world turning upside-down all at once. He didn’t want to set himself up for failure and destruction by allowing any of them to get too close only to discover some monster lurking inside, waiting for the smallest tremor to release what little control Saeran had over it. At the same time, though… No one had ever given him a chance to be a person he _wants_ to be. He’d never had the opportunity to be good.

Saeran bit his tongue and inhaled deeply. Proving himself would be difficult, he knew that. But for whatever reason… He was determined to try. Now more than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for taking so, so long to get this up. I'll say now that I'm a full time PhD student, and I just finished my first semester, so I'm only going to get more busy from here. But today I said enough is enough, and finished this unnecessarily long chapter! Sometimes I struggle to find the motivation to write, but the support of my friends and the people who have given this fic kudos and commented on it have lifted my spirits, and I'm a little more driven to write when I remember how many people look forward to the next chapter. So even though it's still early in the story, thank you all for being so patient, and I hope you stick around for the rest that's yet to come!


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